Daddy's little demon
by Firestarhk
Summary: AU where Doyle and Harriet have a 21-year-old daughter, Fiona. Fiona's parents never told her about her demon heritage, so one day when she turns into one, and frantically calls her father, Doyle realizes he must tell her the truth. Some language.


_Beep! Beep! Beep! _21-year-old Fiona Doyle groaned as she felt around her nightstand for her alarm clock. Once she found it, she slammed her fist on the off button as hard as she could. 9:00. She had three hours before she was going to meet her father for lunch at a local café.

Fiona drowsily rubbed her eyes. She loved spending time with her dad, but like any other twenty-something, she also loved sleeping. Without looking up, she walked into the bathroom and turned on the light. Rummaging through the drawer, she found her facial cleanser. She finally looked at her reflection in the mirror and screamed. Her face…it was green and pointy, it almost looked like some kind of a…she started to shriek again but stopped. Her screams would likely attract attention and the last thing she needed was anyone to see her like this.

Running out of the bathroom, she grabbed her phone from the kitchen counter and screamed into it, "Siri, call Dad!"

"I'm sorry, could you repeat that?" Siri asked unhelpfully.

"Damn it!" Fiona shook her head. She went to her contacts folder and manually clicked her father's name. It rang three times before going to voicemail.

"You've reached the phone of Allen Francis Doyle," her father's thick Irish accent spoke. "I'm sorry I can't answer your call right now. Please leave your name and number after the beep."

"Seriously, Dad?! Wake the hell up – I'm having a crisis here!" Fiona cried into the speaker. The phone clicked.

"Fiona?" her father answered drowsily. "What's going on?"

"There you are! Dad, can we possibly reschedule lunch? I can't make it today…" Fiona started.

"But why? Moon Café is your favorite. Are you feeling all right?"

"Oh, I'm feeling great!" Fiona exclaimed with fake enthusiasm. "Except for my face!"

"What's wrong with your face? You have a beautiful face, darlin' – I should know, it looks just like mine," Doyle chuckled into the phone.

"Oh really? Does your face ever turn green and spiky?" Fiona shot back.

Doyle stopped laughing. "Actually, yeah, sometimes," he paused. "Why…did yours?"

"Yes! I can't go out in public looking like some sort of –"

"Demon?" Doyle finished.

"Yeah, exactly, a demon. Dad, what the hell is going on?"

Doyle sighed. "It'll go back to normal soon. But I have something I need to tell you. I'd rather do it in person. Are we still on for lunch?"

"Yeah, I guess. If it really will go back to normal,"

"Sounds great. See you at noon. Love you, Fifi."

"Love you too," Fiona rolled her eyes at her Dad's childhood nickname for her. But now was not the time to argue about that. She hung up the phone and continued to get ready for lunch.

Much to Fiona's relief, her father was right, and her face did go back to normal. She was seated at an outdoor table at Café Moon. Dad was on his way; she had just texted him that she was near the fountain. Soon, she saw him and waved; he waved back and sat down across from her.

"Hi," Doyle greeted his daughter with a smile.

"Hey," Fiona said.

"Waiter stop by yet?" Doyle asked.

"Nah. I just got here two minutes ago," Fiona replied.

"So, how are you?"

"Honestly? Still a little freaked out. Care to explain? You said you had something to tell me?"

"Right," Doyle said, clearing his throat. "Um…God, your mother and I should've done this years ago. So…your grandfather was a Brachen demon."

Fiona stared blankly back at him.

"Your grandmother was human. So, I'm ½ demon. And since your mother is 100% human, that makes you only ¼ demon," Doyle continued.

"_Only? ONLY _¼ demon? So, you're telling me I'm only 75% human? Why are you acting like it's not a big deal? Why didn't you tell me sooner? My face looked like a cactus! Oh God, how will I ever get a boyfriend? What if –"

"Fiona, Fiona, calm down. Hey, at least it doesn't affect your math skills," Doyle chuckled, trying to get even the tiniest smile from his daughter. She just glared back at him. He continued.

"The truth is – I didn't know if you even inherited…that. I didn't know about meself until I was your age. Your mother and I didn't want to scare you," he paused.

"How do you think I felt three hours ago when I looked in the mirror? I wasn't just scared – I was terrified!" Fiona replied.

"I know. Now that I know that you did inherit demon features – I wish we had said something to you sooner. I'm sorry."

Fiona blinked back.

"But hey – pretty soon you'll be able to turn it on and off at will!" he continued.

"Really?" Fiona sat up. That could come in handy.

Doyle nodded. "Now, what do you have to do to get some damn service around here? God, it takes forever to get a waiter's attention at this place. And for what? Mediocre food and a bill the size of a –"

"Dad," Fiona interrupted.

Doyle stopped. "What?"

"You don't have to…_demonize _them," the corners of Fiona's mouth curled up in a grin. Doyle chuckled.

"That's my girl," he grinned back. "Daddy's Little Demon. I love you, Fifi."

"I love you too, Dad. But do you have to call me that? It makes me sound like a poodle!"

Doyle chuckled again. "Daddy's Little Demon Poodle."

Fiona groaned.


End file.
